


Pictures of Us

by Eienvine



Category: The Good Cop
Genre: F/M, Found Family, just sap really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eienvine/pseuds/Eienvine
Summary: Cora's never had any family photos before. Never had anything like family before, really. Not until the Carusos came into her life.





	Pictures of Us

**Author's Note:**

> About me: I am a massive sucker for nerdy boys falling for tough girls, but I am an even bigger sucker for found families. How generous of The Good Cop to give me both.

. . . . . .

There’s a cluster of photographs on the wall by the stairs, where not that long ago there was nothing, and they always catch Cora’s eye when she walks by them—but especially this morning, of all mornings.

Because they’re family photos, of a sort, and she’s never had family photos before. Never had anything like family before, really. Not until the Carusos came into her life.

The first one that went up on that wall is from two Christmases ago, and she has to bite back a grin when she sees it. She and Tony Sr. are sitting on a couch, grinning broadly at the camera, and TJ is hovering awkwardly behind them, as far from Cora as he can get and still be in the picture. That one was her fault; it was just over a month after that massive fight they had over the personnel evaluations, and she was still mad enough to spit over it.

In fact she almost refused to come, when TJ asked, but in his quiet tone she recognized the extension of an olive branch, and the Christmas season made her more willing than usual to accept it. Besides, it’s not like she had any other Christmas plans; it’s not like she’d had any Christmas plans since the late 1990s. She decided that it’d be nice, for once, not to spend the day at the office, or alone in her apartment, or partying somewhere warm in an attempt to convince herself that she’s not upset at spending yet another Christmas on her own.

So she agreed to a Caruso family Christmas at Tony’s place, but that wasn’t the same thing as forgiving TJ. She spent a surprisingly happy day with the whole Caruso extended family, who unquestioningly accepted her into the fold, but she avoided TJ the whole time. Hence his awkwardness in the picture.

But by the end of the night, when he was dropping her off back at her place, she’d relaxed enough to mean it sincerely when she thanked him. And he looked so pleased and relieved that she practically forgave him on the spot.

Next to the Christmas picture is one of the following Easter, of the three of them standing in Great Aunt Mary’s backyard. Behind them, just visible, are a few of the various Caruso nieces and nephews and cousins, hunting for Easter eggs. Tony Sr. has one arm casually slung around Cora’s shoulders; TJ stands on his other side, looking more comfortable than he does in the Christmas picture. The two men look very handsome in their Sunday best, and Cora had managed to rustle up a light-colored dress—not her usual look, but she’d decided it was fitting for the holiday.

She remembers them convincing her to go to Easter services; the Carusos are all staunchly Catholic (although TJ’s much more devout than his father, as in he actually goes to Mass outside of Christmas and Easter) and they wouldn’t miss it for the world: the week of services and worship, the evening vigil on Holy Saturday. Cora was baptized a Catholic—she could hardly avoid it, with an Italian mother and a Mexican father—but she can count on one hand the number of services she remembers attending in her life. But it was pretty nice, in the end, and she decided she wouldn’t say no if they asked her again in the future. Which they have, on more than one occasion, and she always enjoys it.

And then there’s the photo from the Fourth of July. Unlike the first two, this one is candid; Tony’s friend Wendell took it while they weren’t paying attention. This one she loves, because she’s never seen another picture of herself where she looks so . . . sweet. So open and joyful and genuinely enchanted, by anything. (TJ looks about the same, come to think of it.)

It shows them sitting on the front steps of the house in the early evening, after all the Independence Day festivities. TJ and Cora sit side by side, shoulders brushing, both staring at a lit sparkler that he’s holding. She looks mesmerized by the glow of it; she hadn’t lit one since she was a kid, and that child-like glee and wonder is lighting up her face more than a firework ever could. Next to her, the sparkler's light is reflecting off TJ's glasses. And Tony Sr. is standing behind them, grinning down at them both.

She looks back particularly fondly on that day, and not only because she loves fireworks; that day was important to her because it was the first time the Carusos didn’t officially invite her over for the holiday, they just assumed she was coming. It’d been so long since she had that kind of relationship with anybody (ill-advised marriage aside): one where it was just assumed that of course you’d spend time together.

And looking at that picture now gives her the same feeling she remembers having at that very moment: a feeling of belonging, of being loved, of finally not being alone in the world.

The next photo was taken after a ceremony at 1 Police Plaza that autumn, on the occasion of Cora receiving her first official commendation for her work. Loomis took the picture, she remembers, and Ryan is half visible in the background, staring off into the distance with a spacey look on his face. She and TJ are in their dress blues, with Tony in a suit, and she’s got her arms flung around both their shoulders. Tony Sr. is beaming like the sun, and she remembers him telling her he couldn’t have been more proud if it were his own kid.

She remembers almost crying about it, too.

TJ, too, had been absurdly proud of her, and she had basked in the glow of it; her smile in the picture is one of absolute pleasure and pride and joy (though the arm he has firmly around her waist probably also had something to do with that smile).

Yeah, she loves this picture too.

The last photograph is of the most recent Christmas. They’re on the same couch as the last Christmas picture, looking a year older and a year wiser. Tony Sr. is wearing the most ridiculous reindeer sweatshirt, thanks to Cousin Izzie’s idea to make it an ugly sweater party, and Cora found an amazingly hideous knit monstrosity in red and gold at a thrift shop.

TJ is in a suit and tie; he’d just gotten off work and hadn’t bothered going upstairs to change into the sweater his dad bought him (he confessed to Cora how glad he was to have an excuse not to wear the thing). But she, not willing to let him get away so easily, had shoved a headband on him—courtesy, again, of Cousin Izzie—that dangled a sprig of mistletoe over his head.

Which draws her attention to the main way that this Christmas picture differs from the previous year’s picture: in the first picture she and TJ were as far away from each other as possible, while in this one she’s sitting in his lap, with her arms around his neck and her lips pressed to his cheek. He’s grinning in that way he has when laughter and happiness cover his whole face and his eyes squint into half-moons behind his glasses. And Tony Sr. is looking fondly at them both.

This one might be her favorite picture of all.

The front door opens, startling her out of her reverie. “Hey Cora, you ready to go?” She tears her gaze away from the picture to see Tony Sr. striding in, looking very sharp in a charcoal gray suit with a boutonniere on his lapel.

“Sorry,” she says, “just got distracted looking at these.”

But Tony suddenly seems distracted himself. His step falters as he takes her in, and Cora suddenly feels very awkward; she’s not used to getting really dolled up. Not like this, anyway.

“What do you think?” she asks, smoothing her hair down.

“What do I think?” he repeats. “I think I never seen such a beautiful bride. Not since my Connie.” His expression softens. “I wish she coulda been here. I know she’d love you.” He glances up the stairs, at where his and Connie’s wedding photo hangs.

“I wish I could've known her,” she says softly. And then, to try to halt her slide into sentimentality, “I’d love to know what kind of woman raised TJ.”

Tony lets off a bark a laughter. “Yeah, my boy is one of a kind. But in a good way.”

“In the best way,” she agrees.

“So, you nervous?”

“Honestly, not at all. Which is weird, right? The first three times I got engaged, I always had this bad feeling in the back of my mind, you know? But this time, never. Not one doubt.” She grins. “I think that means he’s the one.”

Tony’s smile softens. “I’m so happy for you two,” he says, quiet and sincere. “And I’m so happy to be welcoming you into the family. Can’t think of anybody I’d rather have as a daughter.”

Suddenly Cora’s eyes are filling with tears, and now Tony’s eyes are suspiciously bright, and she lets out a choked laugh. “I swear, Caruso, if you make me ruin my makeup . . .”

“Can’t have that,” he jokes. “If you have to go fix it, we’ll be late to the church, and that son of mine will lecture us on punctuality.”

The joke works: Cora laughs, and gets her tears under control. “We can’t have that,” she agrees, and tilts her head toward the door. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” says Tony grandly, and they cross to the front door. But then he stops and looks back at the photos she was just examining. “After today,” he points out, “we’ll have a new family picture to put up.”

There’s that feeling again: like she finally belongs, like she’s no longer alone in the world.

And she smiles at her soon-to-be father-in-law. "Let's get to the church."

. . . . . .

fin


End file.
